Downfall
by TwilightEternal412
Summary: Scarlett is a refined, aristocratic woman who dresses like a man and adopts the name James to volunteer in the Continental Army. With the heart of a patriot, she seeks out freedom and befriends many allies, including elite Assassin, Connor Kenway, along the way. But when a secret is revealed, can she truly stay faithful to her country and all she's been fighting for? OCxConnor
1. Chapter 1

**READERS, CHAPTER ONE OF ****DOWNFALL**** HAS OFFICIALLY BEEN POSTIFICATED!**

**Um, yeah. New story on Assassin's Creed. Saw WAY too many stories like mine, and I don't wanna seem like a thief or anything. But if you'd like me to continue that story, I might but dont really know.**

**Anyway, new plot and new heroine. In case some of you are scared or at least cringe easily, this first chapter might make you cringe. I needed a way for her to meet Connor, and this came up. **

**Damn Brits xD**

**ENJOY! PLEASE NO SILENT READERS! I LOVE TO KNOW WHAT THE READER IS THINKING, AND WAYS I CAN IMPROVE IN WRITING!**

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Men from all over the settlements of New England had gathered for one purpose. A line had formed from the entrance of Boston, to the town hall blocks away. All of the brave men wished for freedom. They wished for their ties to Britain to be cut, so that they would never suffer under the King's iron fist again.

Soldiers of the Continental Army sat at a wooden stand, taking the names of the men who wished to enlist and help fight the good fight. Many of the enlisters were of bulky and muscular build. Some were veterans for the British Army back in their prime. But one boy stood out from all the rest of them. He was quite a scrawny boy, with frail looking arms and delicate hands. His face was filled with soft features with piercing hazel eyes and caramel skin. A gray hat hid his soft blonde curls from view.

The boy hardly looked the role of a soldier; more that of a paperboy with a pretty face. Of course, some of the older men took notice of him and began to talk about him. Glances were exchanged, those of humor and curiosity. A boy taking up arms with such a weak build was unheard of and simply laughable. But the boy seemed to keep a strong facade and continued to wait patiently in the cue, ignoring the chatter that was going about him.

Once his turn, he stepped up and held his hand out to accept the pen. One of the soldiers eyed him up and down, curious just as all the other men were. He hesitated handing the boy the pen. He believed that a small child like him was insane for enlisting in war.

"Lad," he said quietly. "Please beg my pardon, but you seem to be a bit frail for something like this."

The boy looked up from under his cap. "Are you rejecting my service?"

The lanky soldier nudged his comrade and smiled at the boy. "Not at all lad. We're just a bit unsure as to why such a tiny boy like you would be willing to risk your life, while many others of strong builds are enlisting as well. "

"You underestimate me, sirs," the boy said with a cool confidence. "I can assure you that I would be a great addition to the Continental Army."

The soldiers couldn't help but snicker at his bravery. Then, the first leaned forward to get a closer look at the boy. "I think we should give this brave young lad a break. Let him join! It'll be his own fault if he's found murdered by morning!"

They handed him a pen, all the while howling with laughter. The boy snatched it and scribbled his name onto the paper as the soldiers watched for their own enjoyment. Once finished, he slammed the pen down on the wooden table.

Through tears of laughter, the lanky soldier took a look at his name. His eyes widened in disbelief and his jaw dropped to the ground. "James... Blackburn?! Of the Blackburn Estate just beyond the frontier lines?" One nod from James was all it took for both the soldiers to straighten their backs and adorn a respective attitude. "A thousand apologies, sir. We misunderstood."

"Here's your uniform," the other said whilst handing the blue barbs to him. "I didn't realize Elmer and Jane had a son."

"They don't," James said bluntly. "I'm their nephew. I've just come over seas to help with the war."

"I see! Well, it's an honor to have a Blackburn serving our country. Please know that the training will begin here at dawn tomorrow!" The recruiter pointed at a small fort right outside the frontier.

James nodded in reply.

Both soldiers sighed and began to apologize again, but James immediately left the area. Even though they laughed at his willingness to fight, they were idiotic. They could not see through "James's" disguise. Because James Blackburn didn't exist. Underneath boy's clothing and a cap to hide the long locks of hair, was a girl.

Scarlett Rose Blackburn. She was known as a prestigious young woman with servants and slaves galore. Her family had come from England long ago, and was one of the first settlers of Jamestown, Virginia. They had built a sort of wealth empire around the crops her ancestors had grown for years. The Blackburns were highly known around Boston and New York and were highly respected by all.

The Blackburns had a son and a daughter. The son, Scarlett's older brother, had died only just last year from an unknown illness. The family grieved for months. But it was then after that Scarlett began to act more and more like her brother, as if she were living his life for him rather than living her own.

The insanity began when she signed up for the Continental Army. It had been her decision. Her parents had no knowledge of her act as of yet. Women were forbidden to join the army at the time, which infuriated Scarlett to the very core. She took a name, and became James Blackburn, the unheard nephew.

Once out of Boston's city limits, she sighed to herself and released her hair from its imprisonment. It flowed down to the small of her back in luscious dirty blonde curls. In her pack was a change of formal clothes to return in so her mother and father would not suspect her recent outing.

She went deeper into the forest until she deemed it safe enough to undress. One by one, she stripped herself of the loose fitted vest and blouse she had taken from her brother's old room. Bandages had covered her chest to flatten it, making her seem more like a boy. She slipped out of the trousers and back into her bloomers. She rummaged through the pack to find her emerald green day dress crafted by her mother. To her disdain, she placed the dreaded corset around her waist and tightened the strings behind her back. The dress had fit on perfectly. She placed all of her costume essentials into the pack and took out the hated heels.

Scarlett Blackburn had returned as a woman. When ready, she threw the pack over her shoulder and went back to the dirt road towards her home. A beautiful glistening river ran beside it and beavers scurried to make dams for homes. Thoughts about future events entered he mind. She, rather James, would be taught to shoot muskets and wield a sword. The only weapons she had ever really used was a dagger and the common pistol. But she was quite handy with them. Excitement built up in her chest, and she happily looked forward to her early training tomorrow morning.

She stopped dead in her tracks. She had forgotten the fact that her parents were still in the situation. How was she supposed to be gone everyday from morning to night without making her parents suspicious of her actions?

Without thinking, she slumped to the ground and groaned. It was going to be such a challenge. Her parents would never approve of a woman of their class going into war. It was downright unheard of. And her mother would be mortified at her actions.

Just brilliant.

Footsteps pounded on the dirt road and Scarlett looked up to face a British soldier on patrol. Fear shot through her spine. British soldiers were brutes no doubt, but she had never encountered one before. The rumors that were spread around Boston were horrible and terrifying. Was it all true?

The soldier had icy blue eyes that seemed to strike fear into anyone's hearts. Medals adorned his ornamental sash all the way across his body. This officer was one of higher standards. His body slightly swayed side to side, but it went unnoticed by Scarlett. He stopped upon coming in front of the distraught woman and scanned her immediately.

"I'm terribly sorry sir!" she stammered quickly. "I'll be out of your way!"

The officer held up a gloved hand to silence her. "No need. What are you doing so far out in the frontier? This district is occupied by His Majesty's troops."

"I was just on my way home sir. I don't mean any harm upon any of His Majesty's fine soldiers." Scarlett reminded herself to keep a cool head. She couldn't let fear override her state of mind. "Now if you do not mind, I shall take my leave now."

"Not so fast," he said, though his tone was much softer. Scarlett started to notice that something was off about him, something that made her feel uneasy. "What is your name, girl? I can't imagine any woman of such high order treading the frontier at dusk."

"What business do you have with my name? If I am not causing trouble, I have the right to leave!"

"If you would answer my name, I'd be glad to let you off," he offered politely. But his face showed features of annoyance.

Scarlett sighed. "Scarlett. Scarlett Blackburn."

"I thought as much," he chuckled darkly. "It was my first guess since the estate is beyond the borders of the frontier."

"I've told you my name, now keep your word and let me go home," she spat.

Scarlett began to walk past him, but a firm hand grasped her arm. She looked back to see a smug look upon the officer's face, one of desire and wanting. He pulled her forward, nose touching nose. His breath reeked of left over whiskey and bourbon. The man was partially drunk!

"Who knew that old Elmer could have such a beautiful daughter," he slurred.

Scarlett's eyes widened, and she slapped him hard with her free hand. "Unhand me, redcoat! I demand it!"

But the officer now held both her tiny wrists in her large hands. He pinned her to a nearby tree, his mouth inches away from hers. "I don't think you'll be going anywhere for a while, Scarlett. Say anything, even scream, and you'll die." He poked a knife into her side with his hip where it sat on his belt unsheathed.

"Go to hell," Scarlett whispered shakily.

The officer grinned at her, and his lips crashed onto hers forcefully. It hurt to have him kissing her. She could feel his tongue starting to travel from her mouth to her neck. Fear had won. She opened her mouth to scream, to call out for help. But no sound came out. Only choked back sobs of fear and distress. His hands still pinned her to the tree, so there was no way she could escape.

This man could kill her if she said anything to anyone. Her heart raced a mile per minute. Was no one going to save her?

The officer's lips halted. The blue eyes that she feared so much were bulging and looking up into her own. His head began to shake uncontrollably, and his eyes traveled to his abdomen. Scarlett darted her eyes as well, and another sob came out after seeing a blade plunged through him.

He slumped down, his arms slipping off her wrists and into the ground. Scarlett frantically shot her gaze back up to see the killer. She was astonished at what she found.

A man dressed in white robes stood in front of her. His body was covered in assortments of weapons, from axes to firearms. This man had it all. An immense hood covered most of his face from view. He held a small blade that was attached to his arm on a leather gauntlet. This was the man who had murdered the officer. The one who saved her.

Scarlett slid to the ground and held her heart tightly. Her breathing had quickened and she felt quite light headed. The man knelt down before her, pushing the man's body out of the way.

"Are you alright?" he asked calmly. His accent was quite unusual and very smooth.

She replied with a small nod. "I'm fine... Just a little shocked is all." She looked under his hood, trying to get a closer look at his face.

He stood up rather suddenly. He offered his hand, but she rejected it. Instead, she got up herself, showing him she was okay.

"It seems you are much stronger than you appear," he complimented. "I am sorry you had to endure such an act. Most of the British soldiers here are monsters towards women."

"Thank you," she muttered. "If you hadn't come, I don't even wish to imagine what would've happened to me. So, I thank you for your troubles."

He bowed his head, and turned to leave. But Scarlett grabbed his wrist to halt him. He glanced back at her in confusion.

"May I ask what your name is?"

The man hesitated, inhaling a deep breath. Without turning to face her, he replied, "Connor."

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**A/N: It seems I'm just full of ideas this week, right? -_- Maybe it's new story ideas, or my boredom getting to me. **

**Well Christmas is over and now to look forward to a new year! Hope you thought this first chapter was good!**

**REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVORITE!**

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**Like Soul Eater? Check out my finished work, ****Unbreakable Bond****, and it's in-the-works sequel, ****As Darkness Falls, Stars are Born****!**

**Like Legend of Zelda? Check out my currently postponed (but will get back on it as soon as possible!) work, The Forgotten Prophecy!**

**This was done on NotePad for the iPad 2.**


	2. Chapter 2

TwilightEternal412's _Downfall_ has officially been updated!

**A/N:** So sorry for the month hiatus. I didn't actually plan on continuing this story, but I got a lot of positive as well as insightful feedback which fueled me to continue! Thank you for the reviews! I will try to post weekly or at least once every two weeks! So please, be on the lookout for new chapters!

Enjoy! Please review!

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_Chapter Two_

"Connor," Scarlett repeated. "Well, Connor, thank you for saving me. Is there anything I can do for you in return?"

"Please think nothing of it. That man was notorious for being a womanizer. An ex-officer, still roaming around wearing his badges as if he were still fit to wear them. I only did a good deed for everyone. And I doubt you could do much."

Scarlett was taken aback. He had only done it because the officer was a target to him? She tapped her foot angrily as she watched Connor walk down the dirt path back towards Boston. Thinking on anger, she grabbed the back of his robe and pulled him back. He turned around in shock and she saw a hint of annoyance flash across his dark face. Scarlett should have been more cautious, so to speak. This man had calmly killed the officer in one blow, showing no remorse r conflicting feelings at all. He was a skilled murderer, an assassin.

"What do you mean by that?" Scarlett said raising her voice. "I may have been in trouble but if I had my dagger, he'd be finished without any help from you!"

"What does it matter? You are safe from harm and you can go back home safely. You do not have to make this into a big affair."

Scarlett was fuming now. "I beg your pardon, but I'm saying that even if you weren't there, I could have taken care of myself. The officer was obviously drunk, so it would have been easy to shake or push him off."

Connor turned around and faced her head on. She finally got a glance under his hood, and noticed chestnut brown eyes boring into her own. The setting sun seemed to lighten his face and she realized his skin was very tan. Scarlett came to the conclusion that Connor was a native. He was seemingly handsome, and he had such broad and chiseled features. The contours of his body were greatly defined by his robes. Weapons of every assortment only added to the allure.

Scarlett immediately pushed the womanly thoughts away. This was not a petty girl's attraction. There were more important matters at hand.

"While all of that may be true, it was evident that you were helpless in the situation. All women in positions like yours are, anyways. I accept your thanks, now please let me be on my way," Connor put simply.

When he tried to make his escape again, Scarlett humorously grabbed the collar of his cloak and pulled him back again, annoyed out of her mind. "I'll have you know that I'm the strongest woman in all of New England. I could sign up for the army if I tried."

On the inside, she was giggling hysterics at the irony of her statement. She had signed up, but with a different persona named James.

A sarcastic laugh rang in her ears, and she shot her eyes up towards Connor. "What, you don't believe me?"

"Women do not have a place on the battlefield except for nursing the soldiers back to health," he said cooly.

She never thought those words would hurt, but they did. She didn't like Connor at all, and it was clear the feeling was mutual. Instead of showing his harsh words hurt, she snickered and smirked. "We'll see about that, Connor. Times are changing you know. Things can change."

Without another word to him, she waved mockingly and turned to home. She hated Connor. It was her duty as a woman to prove to him that she could make it in the war.

In her heart, she knew that she was the strongest woman in all of Boston. In all of New England, in fact. She hated being underestimated, and she vowed to herself that the next time she met Connor, she would show him exactly how strong and fierce she was.

Scarlett inspected herself, as she hadn't after her run in with Connor. The dress her mother made was now covered in mud and dirt. It seemed that's the officer had roughed her up quite a bit. This only made her anger burn even more than before. It only proved that what the soldiers and what Connor had said before were right. Her weakness would get the best of her in the end. She made a solemn vow to herself that she would train as hard as she could. She would push herself to the limit if that's what it would take to get stronger.

The porch of the Blackburn Manor came into view and she ran up the steps. She raised her fist to the door, but stopped herself. what elaborate would she come up with? How would she convince her family that she would be gone from morning to the light? She mustered her courage, and knocked on the door. Within seconds, the door swung open to reveal her angry mother, with an astonished maid behind her (who probably had run to answer herself.) Scarlett's mother did not notice the recent incidents that had taken place before she had gotten home. Though she did braced herself for a deep scolding.

"Scarlett, I just do not understand you sometimes," her mother sighed. "You never seem to listen to my rules when I send you out into town. And look at your beautiful dress! I worked so hard on it and its covered in dirt!"

"I apologize," Scarlett said. "But, Mother-"

"I don't want to hear it! Your father has been waiting in the parlor for hours now, and you don't even have the courtesy to show up on time! What the hell were you doing anyway?"

"I...had walked a bit through town, talked to some of Father's friends and met their sons, and I decided to take in the sights of the frontier before I came home. I tripped while walking home, that is the reason why the dress is ruined."

Scarlett finally breathed. She thought the lie to be well received by her mother, who only shook her head and grabbed her daughter's arm. She was dragged to the parlor room where her father sat with an angry glare on his face. He rigidly got up from his position in the chair and towered over her.

"You've been gone for quite some time, Scarlett," he said, his voice cool. "Your mother and I were very worried. It's not safe for a lady to be out at night, especially you."

Scarlett furrowed her brows. Lately, her parents had been extra cautious and very strict about her curfew. It was as if there was something they were hiding from her.

"You know I'm okay on my own," she reassured. "I'm a strong girl!"

"No you are not," her mother remarked sharply. "You are a woman of very high standards. Many people would want to take advantage of you for your wealth and status around Boston. I don't believe a word you told me! What were you doing in town today?"

Scarlett clenched her fists, containing her rage. "Mother if you would just trust me-"

"That's quite enough, Scarlett," her father's seemingly cool voice interrupted. "Now, tell us the truth to where you have been."

As if on cue, Scarlett clutched the satchel that carried James's clothes. Her mother's quick eyes darted to it, and snatched it from her grasp.

"What's in this?" she asked sternly. When she unclasped the bag and removed its contents, the look of horror washed over her mother's face.

But the look her father gave her was much worse. His eyes gleamed disdain and terror, as if Scarlett had committed the biggest sin in all of New England. He slowly walked over to the clothes and the ground and inspected them thoroughly.

A sharp sting blossomed in Scarlett's right cheek. It grew red with every passing second, revealing the shape of a delicate hand print. Her eyes shot towards her mother, only to be taken aback. The expression of her mother was not that of anger or distrust, but that of pain and exhaustion.

"You dressed like your brother again," she choked. "How dare you go against our wishes!"

Scarlett's hazel eyes fell to the ground. What else could she say? It was better than the real truth.

Her father was the next to show his emotions. "What the hell were you thinking Scarlett?! What if someone were to catch you committing such an unladylike act? The Blackburn's would be ruined! Our place within society would be destroyed!"

"That's all you've ever cared about!" Scarlett retorted. "Power, wealth, and status! You and mother both! None of you understand that I am trying to prove myself! I'm living for my dear brother, someone you have seemed to forgotten about! And yet, you scold me and tell me it's not right! You don't get to decide for me! I bet you and Mother never even shed a tear at Brother's death! What is so important about reputation that must be protected so carefully?!"

Her father raised a fist menacingly, but her mother pulled him back. His hair was out of place at the stress Scarlett was causing him. Blood filled his defiled, aged face as his anger increased. "YOU ARE NOT TO LEAVE THIS HOUSE AGAIN! DO NOT DARE TELL ME WHAT YOUR PATH IS! YOU WILL STAY IN YOUR ROOM UNTIL YOU ARE OF AGE! AM I UNDERSTOOD?!" Once he began to breathe and calm down, he lowered his fist, his dark eyes tired and hard. "You would not understand, Scarlett. When you are older, you will understand the destiny we've been saving for you."

Her mother looked at her with hollow, unfeeling eyes. "If you were just patient, the destiny made for you would come quicker. But you decide to change the course we have planned for you, and disobey our orders. It cannot go on like this. Stop this nonsense and face reality, Scarlett dear."

Scarlett locked eyes with her father and mother, battling her tears that threatened to spill. With the last of her emotional strength, she whispered, "I hate you both."

With that said, the satchel that had been thrown to the ground was snatched by her hands as she ran from the parlor and stormed up the stairs, jostling into maids and servants along the way. Once inside the confides of her room, she locked the door and fell against the soft wood. The warm tears stained her bright red cheeks, and the quiet sobs trickled from her mouth. Even though she had the strength of ten men, her heart was still as fragile as a flower.

The father she knew and the one she knew now were completely different. Elmer Blackburn used to be a gentle, kind man, who loved his family dearly. He never truly cared about the wealth he had come to obtain, just having his family by his side was enough. But the light in his eyes died with his son. The greed overcame him as the realization of not having an heir became known to him. It consumed him, and changed everyone around him.

Jane Blackburn was just the same. Reputation and womanhood was everything to her. If she caught Scarlett in men's clothing or shooting a rifle, the punishment was severe. Happiness meant nothing to Jane. As long as Scarlett did as she was told and dressed proper, Jane would be content.

Both of them had always talked of a strange destiny ever since her brother's death. Scarlett knew that something was seriously wrong with the thought, but her curiosity soon got the best of her. She wished to know what destiny her parents had planned, and how it benefited her in any way. It was probably only for their expense.

In front of her very eyes, her family had slowly started to fall apart. The prestigious, well known Blackburn Estate was in shambles. And Scarlett felt it her duty to fix it. If her mother and father would not see reason, she would make them. The war only made it harder on them, so if she could join the army and help quicken its end, then maybe her family would start to become one again.

The decision was made. No one could stop her rebellious mind now. As soon as the moon shone high above the trees, Scarlett prepared her satchel with fresh food and clothes. She equipped her disguise well, hiding her golden locks from the naked eye. She wiped the paint and powder from her face, and bandaged her chest once more before dressing into men's attire.

Before leaving the comfort of her room, she set the note she had written before that would be for her parents. It was written in simple sentences, telling them not to look for her, only that she would be back someday after the war had died down.

Using the curtains as a rope, she quietly slid down with ease and landed on the soft summer grass. With silence, she ran towards the stables and grabbed the fastest horse they owned. It was a black stallion with a glistening coat and mane. Scarlett fastened the saddle onto its back and tied down her satchel. Once prepared, she wrapped her hands around the reigns and led the horse out of the stable.

Scarlett reared her head, looking back at the estate she had known for many years. Where she was born and raised. Though it pained her, she knew it would be for the best. Her family could be saved, the war could be ended, all would be fine...

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The early signs of dawn began to appear over the horizon, as the black stallion raced into the city limits of Boston. Scarlett's heart raced with excitement as she neared the camp right outside of the gates. James would be respected by soldiers and nobles because of the family name, but Scarlett couldn't say for the commoners volunteering. James would receive sneers and distasteful looks, but she was prepared for all of that. No matter what, her plans would succeed.

Just like yesterday, men were crowding around the gate with hungry eyes. They stood as solid as rocks, waiting for the soldiers to command them, to work them to the bone. All of them came with a similar purpose: to fight for their freedom. The Continental Army consisted of all kinds of men across New England. It was all for the sake of cutting their ties from Great Britain.

And Scarlett couldn't wait.

She parked her horse along with others and tied it to a nearby stand with a water trough. Claiming her satchel from the back, Scarlett bounded towards the crowd of men, eager to begin. But during her short period of excitement, she rammed into a body and toppled over. The ladder still stood tall towering over her.

"Dammit," she muttered, and looked up to see an outstretched hand in offering. Her eyes followed the arm and looked straight into an annoyingly familiar face.

Scarlett's breath hitched at the sight, and a groan of despair and horror escaped past her lips. Of how places, how did she end up meeting him here?

Connor, still offering his hand, showed no sign of remembrance at all. Scarlett realized that the disguise was enough to conceal her identity. It was a good thing, too. If Connor bothered to remember her, she'd be reported immediately.

The realization of the fact hit her like a gust of wind. Scarlett would have to play the part of James to a tee to avoid the risk of getting found out by the one person who could possibly have remembered her true face.

Acting nonchalant, Scarlett took the offered hand gratefully and was pulled up to standing position. She looked up into Connor's face and gave him a small, boyish smile. Lowering her voice an octave, she said, "Thank you, sir. I'm terribly sorry for running into you. I was just a bit excited, is all."

Connor shook his head. "It is fine. It is to be expected of a young boy joining the army so quickly."

Without wanting to give too much away, Scarlett waved and disappeared into the bustling crowd. She heaved a sigh of relief. As long as she steered clear of Connor as much as possible, she'd be safe.

Then reality came to her. What was Connor doing there anyway? She hadn't taken him to be one for the army. Though, his skills would've added an immense amount to the cause. Maybe he was a soldier just like them? She shook her head. He may have just been passing through. Many people do in the mornings of Boston.

The crowd's chatter was halted by the appearance of a high-ranked officer who stood at the front of the crowd. He had dark curls and deep green eyes, a sincere but hardened expression painted on his face. His eyes scanned the crowd, looking at everyone carefully.

As luck would have it, his eyes landed on Scarlett. It was expected, since she was the smallest of all the recruits. But soon, the officer moved on and evaluated. Scarlett exhaled deeply. Her heart had stopped for a minute, thinking she had been found out so soon.

After minutes passed, the officer spoke in a booming voice. "You are gathered here because you have volunteered for a great cause. You are adding your strengths to the Continental Army. But from now on, be prepared to train and train day and night, from dawn till dusk. Bones may be broken, scars may be made. But if you a truly dedicated to this fight, then you will stay through hail and snow. Those who think otherwise, may leave now."

Bodies shifted in the crowd, and to Scarlett's surprise, some actually jostled through the crowd and left with sunken heads. Others gave them shameful glances before veering their attention back towards the officer.

"You will be assigned groups for each type of knowledge and training given. Each group will have a mentor, who will train you until they see you fit to be called soldiers. Endure each task given, and you might be put on the field if I deem you worthy.

"Now, let us get started," the officer's voice trailed off as he started to call names of the mentors up to he front.

An elbow nudged Scarlett in her ribs, and she turned next to her to see a boy of her age staring at her questioningly. He had soft brown eyes like those of a child, and fair skin contrasted with his dark mahogany hair. His too, was covered by a cap. A smile played at his lips.

"Seems like the training here is brutal," he said with a slight accent. Scarlett recognized it as southern English, more of a cockney dialect. The boy held out his hand for a shake. "My name's Thomas Smith. Yours?"

Scarlett returned his smile and shook firmly. "James Blackburn. Pleasure to meet you, Thomas."

"Oh, your a rich boy, are you?" he asked teasingly. "Didn't know the Blackburn's had another son!"

"They don't. I'm their nephew. I've just come across seas to help with the war."

Thomas's eyes grew wide with interest. "Amazing! You came in time, too! They just cut off British ships from entering Boston Harbor!"

Scarlett winced at the comment. She didn't think about that part of her story, but Thomas seemed to buy it, so she said nothing of it. "I was lucky enough for sure. Mind me asking, but how old are you? You don't seem to be as old as the other men here."

Thomas smirked. "I'm no older than you I don't think! Just turned twenty a few weeks ago! My family urged me to join the army, so here I am. What are your reasons for coming?"

She hesitated slightly. "Same. Family honor and all that. Nephew is second best to a son."

"Ah, you go that right," Thomas chuckled, and Scarlett couldn't help but join in. Thomas was a bright young man. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to make at least one friend. "It's surprising to see that you got in! No offense, mate, but you look a bit soft. You barely got any muscle on you!"

"I've been told," she muttered. "The soldiers immediately let me sign up once I told them my last name. They don't want to feel the wrath of the Blackburn's I suppose."

Thomas nodded in agreement. "That's right, I guess."

"James Blackburn! John Radcliffe! George Hunter! Thomas Smith! John Reilly!" the officer called into the crowd. "Please come forward!"

The two new friends gave each other hopeful looks, and made their way to the front.

Scarlett looked ahead to see if their mentor was up there as of yet, and to her dismay, he was. Her heart pounded nervously in her chest, as her bad luck seemed to have no end. Up beside the commanding officer, was none other than Connor. He stood head held high and eyes forward.

All of the recruits stopped in front of the officer, awaiting orders. He walked in front of them, studying each one's features carefully. "If you have not already noticed, the groups are consisted of men with similar characteristics. Please take a moment to look at one another."

They all did so.

"Your group, in particular, seems to be rather small in build compared to the other groups. But we accept all sizes here, and I am looking forward to seeing how much each of you can do. But no one will go easy on you, no matter the course. So toughen up, all of you."

The officer turned to Connor and gestured out to him. "This strong fellow right here will be your mentor. He was given orders by none other than George Washington himself to recruit more soldiers for the camp located in Valley Forge. At the end of each session, you will be given an evaluation. Connor decides whether you pass or fail."

Connor bowed his head in respect for the officer. The officer nodded to all of them in understanding. "Am I clear? Good. Now, go off with Connor and begin!"

* * *

**A/N:** Just another note, my chapters from now on will be much lengthier than chapter one. That was more of an introduction to the story (prologue) than an actual chapter. The next chapter will get into more detail about Scarlett and Connor's relationship, and find out how she is fairing in "boot camp." XD

I've also been trying to study more on the American Revolution, so sorry if there is any historical inaccuracy! I will try to edit if I find anything wrong.

I'm also looking for a **BetaReader** who is willing to dedicate their time to edit and fix the following: historical inaccuracy, grammatical/spelling errors, punctuation, and fragments. Message me please if you are interested! :3

Also, sorry for any grammatical or spelling errors at all. iPads hate me. Autocorrect hates me. Blah. Another reason I need a BetaReader. -_-

Please leave a review! I love to know what my readers are thinking and ways to improve my writing skills to the best of their abilities!

**REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVORITE! **


	3. Chapter 3

_TwilightEternal412's Downfall has officially been updated!_

**A/N: **Sorry for another late update! D: I was in a play and that ran for three weekends, Algebra got real intense with more and more homework, and then I have to make my schedule for my next year of high school which has been stressing me out SO much. But even through all that, I finally made it to posting this! Unfortunately, I can't estimate how long the next update will be from here. I have auditions for yet another play and I have a real good chance of getting a main part if I work hard! So yeah, looking forward to that, but I will also try to make as much time for this as possible! I would never abandon this piece, because I just love Connor and AC3 (:

Also, a HUGE thanks to Kiitsu for BetaReading this chapter! She's fantastical :3

Enjoy!

* * *

_Chapter Three_

"You have got to be kidding me."

Thomas turned and gave Scarlett a curious look. At the sight of Connor, she knew that fate would be cruel to her yet again and make him the mentor of her group. It was like God was teasing her, making her suffer on the road to freedom.

"Is something wrong?" Thomas asked. His brown eyes gleamed with curiosity.

Scarlett slightly blushed from embarrassment and furiously shook her head. Noticing her girlish fault, she quietly replied, "No! It's just... I think I know this man."

Her friend's eyes widened. "Really? Do you know what he's like?"

"Afraid not," she murmured. "The guy's always quiet, so I have no idea what to expect."

It wasn't a lie. She had only met Connor yesterday on pure coincidence. But from only one conversation, Scarlett knew that Connor was not a likable man. His aura was too dangerous, the dark brown eyes were too cold, and his build only added to the fearful look he already had.

Thomas followed her burning gaze towards Connor, who stood proudly in front of them. Though, his facial expression and body were very hard and had an air of uneasiness to him. It was strange to see such a strong man become...nervous like that. Scarlett smirked, enjoying the thought of Connor being a true weakling at heart! Oh, if only that joyous day could be true!

The hard set brown eyes rested on Scarlett's scowling face, and Connor's brow raised in feint curiosity. As soon as she was noticed, Scarlett shifted her gaze directly to Thomas. A sort of relief washed through her. His eyes were kinder, softer, than Connor's cold and brutal ones.

The group around them seemed to silence themselves after the official officer left Connor to address his own formalities. It seemed to make the young man stiffen as he felt the boys' eyes shift onto him. But he kept a cool kind of confidence around himself, making him seem much stronger in appearance.

"My name is Ratonhnhaké:ton, but you may call me Connor," he announced. "I am from Kanien'kehá:ka and lived in the Kanatahséton village. You probably already guessed that I am of native descent, due to the color of my skin. I am here to train you all for the Continental Army under very strict orders from Washington." The name seemed to spit off his tongue. Scarlett deduced that he did not get along with the general very well. "The training you all shall receive will be my own ways of how I have come to survive. It will not be exactly the same as the other mentors or captains here, but it will be affective all the same."

"What do you mean by 'your ways'?" A husky voice called out. Scarlett veered her eyes to a man with solid green eyes and pale features. His voice had already picked up the American accent.

Connor narrowed his eyes at the man. "George Hunter, correct? I mean that we will start training by how I was trained. You will hunt, you will run, you will exhaust yourselves, and you will have reached our fullest potential by the time Washington calls for more troops at the front lines."

George only smiled at the thought of ruthless training everyday. But Scarlett could not say the same for the others beside him. Both seemed to cower in fear at the thought of war, but they still stuck it out and stood before their mentor. But they were boys, around fifteen years of age. Was that even old enough to be listed? It seemed the army had gotten desperate.

One of the young boys, who Scarlett soon made out to be John Radcliffe, raised his hand. "Sir, what is war like?"

"Yeah!" the other, John Reilly, shouted with exuberance. "What I hear from my father, is that it's a great thrill to be on the battlefield! The thrill of the kill is exuberating! Is it true?"

"Tell us one of your encounters!"

"Oh, please sir!"

Their innocence and arrogance only made Scarlett sick. Who would put such young boys in the army? What right minded person would let their children go to war, without any knowledge of them returning at all? But she shouldn't have been talking, since Scarlett herself, was still a child as well.

The Native stepped forward and placed himself in front of the young boys, his cold stare not wavering. "War is a hell that no man can ever forget. It is a place where Death lingers, and lies in wait for the next kill. Was is cruel, and you witness unbearable and terrifying things while on the front lines. Blood is spilled before your very eyes, and the memories of the murders are embedded into your mind forever."

Scarlett had to restrain herself from covering a hand over her mouth. The images she had imagined were gruesome and terrifying. She had wished that war would be something of a melancholy affair, where no one died, only injured. But she knew this not to be true. It was a child's innocence that held her back from facing the truth. The only thing keeping her calm was the will power and strength she had acquired over her years of self training.

The younger boys were shaking uncontrollably now. Their fear seemed to become them, overtaking their train of thought. Connor's vivid words had struck their hearts with fear. It was the cruel, but Connor had only spoke the truth. Still, they stood in front of Connor, not daring to take their eyes off of his. They wanted to prove their worth, yet their bodies said otherwise.

She could not stop herself from speaking out. Connor was only being cruel now, toying with their fear. "Pardon me, sir. But these boys have had enough of your accounts of war. They are still young, so please let them be."

Connor's fierce eyes shot to Scarlett immediately. Her burning hazel eyes locked with his chocolate, and it seemed there was a mental strain between them. It wasn't long before Connor towered over her now, looking down at her with a look of keen interest. It made her blood boil. She knew that he was probably studying her physique, noting that she was the frailest, most fragile looking man out of the group. Even the boys had a strong appearance Scarlett could never have. It made her envious.

"You are kind to stand up for them and try to save them from the truth," Connor praised darkly. "But lies will not help. The truth can prepare them for what is ahead, while lies are filled with false promises. Lying will only end up hurting those around you."

The words were painfully true. Scarlett averted her eyes. She reminded herself that his words could not affect her, for she was not lying. Lying was completely different from what she was doing now.

Connor eyed her once more before continuing on, as the boys resumed their position. They still were shook with chills, but it seemed they were content for now.

"My training will take patience. But in time, you will all become fine soldiers for the Continental Army and for General Washington." He took two steps forward, before leveling his eyes at Scarlett's. The glare was obviously intended for her.

"Shall we begin?"

The group nodded in unison. Most had determined looks, with the exception of fear traced on the young boys' faces. It seemed even though they may have been the weakest looking group, they were ready to come out the strongest.

And that alone, made Scarlett crack her first smile.

* * *

"These are the shooting ranges," Connor announced, gesturing to wooden scarecrows and targets. "Each man will be assigned a target and you will be scored on how well you shoot. If anyone needs adjustments or help, do not hesitate to ask. At the end of the day, you want to be able to become a good marksmen."

He walked to a barrel of loaded rifles and began to pass them down the row. Thomas passed two to Scarlett, and she handed it to one of the small boys from earlier. Her hands clutched the rifle tightly, feeling the wood and metal clash on the long range gun. It would not be the first time she had shot a rifle, but it had been a while.

Connor held his own rifle, and stepped in front of them. "Align yourselves in a line with your target."

They all did so. Scarlett found herself facing a ragged looking scarecrow with a lopsided target hanging from its neck.

"Good. Now, watch carefully at how I prepare my rifle. You all will be doing this after you make your first shot." No matter how she looked at it, it was as if Connor was treating them like children more than soldiers. It made Scarlett's tolerance level with her mentor drop to an extremely low level.

With precise hands, Connor took out a paper cartridge and tore it open. He then pushed the striker forward and poured a generous amount of gunpowder into the flash pan. After pushing the striker back into position and covering the flash pan, he held the musket with the muzzle pointing up. He poured the rest of the powder and aimed his weapon at the target before him. Taking a deep breath, his finger wrapped around the trigger, and pulled it.

A loud explosion rang through the air and the scarecrow in front of them whipped back from it's upright position, it's straw fillings spewing everywhere. Most had covered their ears, including Scarlett, but Thomas seemed to be content and merely clapped at Connor's marksmanship. The blast did not faze him at all, as if the young man was used to it. It puzzled Scarlett, but only for a brief moment.

"Repeat what I have just demonstrated," Connor's voice rang clearly. "It is normal not to hit the target your first time. If you need assistance," his brown eyes darted to meet Scarlett's hazel, "call me over."

Connor waved his gloved hand to begin. The boys, even war-veteran George beside her, took a pause, as if they were all waiting for someone to take the first shot. Scarlett followed suit, and stared at the dummy before her. It was not her first time. She remembered what she had learned when she was younger and always spying on the British soldiers, showing their guns and shooting off to others. Inhaling deeply, she raised the musket to eye level, the head of the firearm facing the target dead on, the motion fluid and graceful. Her slender finger wrapped around the trigger on instinct, keeping both eyes open. The finger tightened and once she knew that her body and mind were prepared, she pulled the joint back.

Watch me now, Connor.

The silver ball rushed out from its imprisonment in the musket and shot through the air. Wind whizzed past it, whistles of the air being mixed in with the fire from the blast. The dummy seemed to falter and fall back as the bullet pressed into the immense red dot that hang from its neck. Bits of wood and straw floated to the grass, silence soon following.

Scarlett straightened her back and gave a small smile. It even amazed her that she hit the bullseye her first try. A smirk played at her lips and she was about to send it Connor's way, but thought better. She kept forgetting Connor didn't know she was a woman; the woman who practically insulted him yesterday. It would be suicide to drop hints now.

Thomas was gaping at her, his eyes sparkling with childish amusement. "Way to go, Blackburn! Never expected that from you!"

She nudged him - hard - and laughed along with him. It seemed like their victory would last, until a tap on the shoulder ruined her good mood.

"Very impressive for an amateur," George Hunter praised. "But, let me say that when shooting, you shoot forward. Not at another's own target."

The horror struck Scarlett when her eyes landed on the perfectly intact dummy - straight in front of her. The doll she had shot was not her own, but George's. Soon, she heard Thomas howling with laughter and her cheeks as red as beets. It seemed her friend knew all along, and was only musing her. And the incident did not go unnoticed by the almighty mentor.

Connor stood beside her, a hand covering his mouth. Snickers were muffled underneath his gruff hand, his body shaking. "Yes, _very_ impressive James. It seems you lack coordination and focus to become an immediate marksman. Do it, again."

That comment only made Scarlett even more embarrassed and angry than before. Her glare shot at the dummy, then Thomas, and finally at Connor. It was his fault for making her shoot the wrong target. It was his fault that she hated him so much. It was his fault that he made her feel like an utter fool all the time.

In a fit of anger (and perhaps atonement) she quickly reloaded her musket, shoving the powder into the head forcefully. Thomas stopped his fits of laughter, and watched wide-eyed as she finished and aimed the musket straight towards her own target. Her finger grasped the trigger and pulled back tightly. The familiar blast of the gun sounded throughout the camp again and the target was obliterated.

The gun was dropped to the ground and Scarlett found herself heaving out her breaths, trying to control herself. Thomas only smiled in amusement, while George and the two young boys stared at her in wonderment.

But Connor was different. It was as if he knew that shot was meant for him to witness. Her eyes traveled and locked with his own. For the first time, she found herself content. She had made Connor furious, though he hid it exceptionally well. She did what she was told, to be sure, but it was not out of respect and obedience to her superior. It was defiance and a personal hatred for him that fueled her actions. It was rash, but it was worth it.

Connor only nodded and grunted, "Very well," before walking away and ordering everyone to their previous positions. For the rest of their lessons and training, Connor did not utter a word to James Blackburn.

* * *

"These cots are bloody uncomfortable," Thomas groaned as he jumped on the rickety metal mattress. "How can anyone sleep in these things?"

After marksmanship, all groups were assigned tents. It was crammed and tiny, really only for for two. But somehow, the officers managed to fit six or more into each individual tent. It was ridiculous.

"Quit your whining," George muttered. "You'll get used to it real quick. Just you wait, this war will be over and we'll be back in our homes before we know it."

Scarlett stared at the dirt ground below her feet. She had occupied a roll on the ground, with only a thin blanket and dirty pillow as comfort. It seemed fit, since she did not wish to share a cot with any of the male guests.

She was actually amazed she had gotten this far into her training. Mother and Father had not sent word, as she wished. No one in the camp, even family friends who she had seen around, had not recognized her nor asked about her last name other than that she was a nephew, not a son.

Still, there was still the lingering threat of Connor. His presence was already a nuisance, but his knowledgeable and sharp eyes were always watching her back, as if they just knew that something was off. It made her uneasy just thinking about it.

"So where did our fearless mentor run off to anyways?" Thomas commented. "Isn't he supposed to be bunking with us?"

George shook his head. "Connor is a man of few words. Some of the others said he left for errands in a nearby town. Also, I heard a lot of rumors about him before coming to this camp."

Scarlett leaned in, interested in what he planned to say. George coughed before starting. "Well, from some, I hear he has assisted in the victories of a few battles, as in Bunker Hill. He's a native, to be sure, but I heard one of the younger soldiers here say he has a white father. I can't say who this father is, but all I can recall is that they are estranged."

"Interesting," Scarlett whispered under her breath. "I could tell from today he is very skilled. But I wonder, why isn't he wearing the Patriot's uniform?"

George shrugged. "The robes he wears now are very symbolic to him, to be sure, but much to modern to be native clothing."

One of the younger boy's faces, John Reilly, lit up. "Those robes aren't native at all! I remember my father talking about people like him! They're more elite than soldiers, and much more skilled than officers! He told me that the old man in the run down mansion on the home front used to be one!"

"Ole Achilles?" George asked. "That old coot doesn't know day from night anymore. He rarely goes out in the daylight anymore!"

"Ah, that's not entirely true," Radcliffe spoke, "Achilles is just really reclusive nowadays. I hear his home was filled with mold and dust before someone started taking care of it. The home front has never been so crowded now!"

Scarlett cocked her head in utter confusion. Achilles? An elite group of soldiers? What were these mad men talking about? Was she really that shut up from the world now that she didn't know the news of the town? Not like she ever really listened to it, but it was painful having this much curiosity burning in her stomach.

"Any of you lads know what we've got planned for tomorrow?" Thomas asked tiredly, leaning back on his cot.

Radcliffe replied, "I heard Connor is taking us individually for another shooting lesson."

Reilly nodded in agreement. "Each of us are getting an hour or so with him at the shooting range before we are tested on our marksmanship."

"They sure are trying to teach us fast," muttered Thomas. "They must be desperate for more volunteers."

"So many are dying that the army's population wavers every day. The King has so many soldiers at his command, it seems like it may be forever if we ever succeed," George added darkly.

It wasn't long before the men and Scarlett took their night's rest. None of the men questioned her as to why she wore her cap. She had been lucky that time, but soon, she realized she'd have to cut her dark golden locks to pass for a boy without wearing the cap.

Unlike the others, who were sound asleep, she remained wide awake. The fears that she held in all day were making a silent appearance. At least her family didn't keep in check where the camps were. Boston was about an hour or so away, and many camps were set up around the Blackburn Estate, British and Patriot alike. It would be weeks until her parents even had a clue of which camp she was set up in.

The thoughts of fear swirled in her head. Not only did she fear her parents actually finding her, there was the possibility of being caught. If by some chance the men she was grouped with found out her true identity, they would either report her or escort her back home themselves with ferocity and disrespect. The ladder seemed more believable to her.

She listened to the sounds of the night as she stared at the cloth walls. But her thoughts were disturbed by the rustle of footsteps against the summer grass outside her tent. Her body stiffened as she heard the tent's curtain open quietly. Scarlett raised her head a bit, her hazel eyes in slits as she peered over her shoulder.

It was only Connor. He had come back after a brief disappearance. He tiptoed gingerly and made his away through the sleeping figures before him and made it to his empty roll. The sound of weapons dropped to the dirt floor. It startled Scarlett enough to make her flinch. She had hoped it went unnoticed by him; unfortunately, that was not the case.

"I am sorry," he whispered in the darkness.

Scarlett groaned and sat upright, hand secure on her cap. Her eyes squinted to see his figure in the dark. She could see a small gleam, making it out to be his eyes.

"Did I wake you?" he asked quietly.

She shook her head. "No. I was awake when you came in. It's fine."

There was an awkward silence for a time, until Connor spoke again, irritating her more. "Get to sleep. You may have done well today, but you still have ways to go before I can deem you the title of a soldier."

Why did it annoy her every time he opened his damn mouth? At first she didn't reply, but soon, she decided to ask her own curious question, hoping it may get to him.

"If I may, sir, why did you step out? All the others were asking about you."

She felt the air tense as her own anticipation awaited his reply.

"I was sent out on a mission for Washington." The tone of his voice was harsh, yet soft. "Though I am your mentor, I have my own affairs to account for."

Scarlett tilted her head toward him again, a bit confused. "Another question. Why do you wear that hooded white robe all the time? Aren't you a Patriot? Is it true that you're really a part of an elite group of soldiers?"

"You ask many questions, don't you?" he chuckled. It surprised her to hear laughter from someone like him. "This robe is very special. My own mentor gave it to me. And as for the last question, I am not a soldier."

"Then what should I call you?"

Another chuckle escaped his lips. "Just call me Connor from now on."

With that, Connor stretched out on his cot, and after minutes of waiting, Scarlett could hear soft snores in the cot beside her.

"Just Connor...huh?"

* * *

**A/N:** How'd you like this chapter? I tried to focus in on Scarlett's character development a bit before going into a ConnorxScarlett relationship (at least a friendly one at that)!

Again, sorry for the delay, and I promise that I'll try to update by next week or the week after! Thanks, Kiitsu! :D for being an AWESOME BetaReader!

**REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVORITE!**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** I am so sorry for the late upload again. I don't want to keep giving you the same excuses, but unfortunately I have to. Finally, my End of Course exams for this semester is over, and I've only got two weeks of school left! I might not upload again until after school is finished. But when Summer comes along, I promise that I will be working on this project nonstop!

I have to thank you all who have been patient with me and I love you for that! Please continue the support, it really helps me finish chapters and whatnot!

FYI: This story has not been read by my fabulous Kiitsu yet, so once she gets the edited and corrected version in to me, I'll replace this unedited with the final copy. I posted this version because I didn't want to keep you waiting! XD

Also, I have an account on Fiction Press, and I just posted the prologue of an original story I'm writing, so if you'd kindly like to support my works there, I'd highly appreciate it. (: My username is the same (TwilightEternal412) and the story is called _Those Who Will Be__ Hurt_.

Enjoy Chapter 4 of _Downfall_!

UPDATE 7/21/13: I can't believe I didn't update this chapter with the edited version! I apologize greatly for any grammatical errors you may have noticed. It has now been replaced and I'm sorry for the wait! I will continue this story as soon as I can! But for now, I regret to inform you that this story will be on hiatus for at least another month. If my followers and readers can bear with me, I will be sure to make the fifth chapter and make sure it is worthy for all of you! Thank you so much for your cooperation and I hope you will, in the meantime, look at my other stories that I am currently working on. Thanks again to you all! You have no idea how much your follows, favorites, and reviews mean to me. And if you are simply just a reader and don't want to keep up with the long waits, I still thank you for considering my story. It gives me great joy to know that I have people reading it, and for that I'm grateful. Until next time, I'm TwilightEternal412 and I hope to see your amazing reviews and follows in future stories.

* * *

_Chapter Four_

The sunlight pierced through the tent like golden daggers, causing Scarlett to rise from a restless night. Even after her short conversation with Connor, it seemed as though she could not sleep a wink. It may have been the devastation of her parents' search for her, or the lingering thought of Connor actually being exceptionally nice, even if he pissed her off in more ways than one. She sat up from her position on the ground. Making sure the rest of the soldiers were still asleep and snoring good dreams, she released her hair from the cap. Her fingers brushed through the curled mass of golden hair, feeling the soft texture between her limbs. It made her melancholy that if she wished to remain hidden, she must say goodbye to her beloved hair.

Rustles of the soldier next to her caused her to silently squeak, and shove her hair back into the cap. Her eyes darted to the floor next to her, and immediately her mood dropped a level. It was Connor, of course, waking up early before his students. Now, his face was fully visible to her. He had such chiseled features and perfect bone structure in his cheeks. His eyes reminded her of almonds, only a richer chocolate color. His hair was messy, in front of his drowsy face. Beads adorned a small braid in his bangs, symbolizing his remaining tie to his culture. In all of the good lighting and the sight of his stunning face, Scarlett's breath hitched as she found herself staring at him.

Fortunately, she caught herself before Connor could even notice her. She heard a deep yawn from beside her. "Good morning to you, Blackburn."

Scarlett only grunted a short reply, "Mornin'."

The native stood up and stretched his limbs. He seemed to take in the sunlight as he began to adorn his costume once more. It seemed it had been time to wake up, as Thomas and George were the next to awaken. They both yawned and stretched like Connor had before them, and smiled and exchanged their good mornings. The two boys, Reilly and Radcliffe, seemed to be unlucky as they were awoken by the sound of a loud scream in their ears from Thomas. As Scarlett had deduced, Thomas Smith was a practical joker.

It was only after everyone was awake that Thomas noticed the presence of their mentor. "Oh, good mornin', sir! Where were you off to last night? We were missing ya!"

Connor only stared his student down and replied, "I had business to attend to."

Knowing he would not get a straight answer, he pouted and sat back down on his bunk. Reilly was still cleaning his wake up call out of his ears when he asked, "Sir, what are the plans for today? Are we really going to have individual shooting lessons with you, or was that another lie Thomas concocted?"

Thomas shot him a dirty look, but kept quiet. Radcliffe snickered while George shook his head at the immaturity. Scarlett looked around and couldn't help but laugh. It was still a bit tense, but she couldn't help it. These men had the strangest ways of becoming allies. She missed her brother, and all of them reminded her so much of them.

In front of Scarlett's very eyes, all the men had begun to undress right in front of her. Blood rushed to her cheeks as she quickly shied away from their view. Of course, Thomas had to notice her innocence and questioned, "Oi, Blackburn. What's got you lightheaded this morning? Don't tell me you've gotten sick on the second day, lad!"

She shook her head, still facing the tent's corner. "It's n-not that! It's just…" How in God's name was she supposed to bypass this one?

"Leave him be," Connor's gruff voice tuned out Thomas's. "The rest of you, once you're done, come outside and receive your breakfast. Then meet me in front of the shooting range once more so I may explain how today's lesson will go."

She heard the tent's entrance open and swoosh close. Thomas muttered something inaudible before pants' buttons were snapped in place and he, too, left the tent. She sighed and stood up from her position on the ground. Her gaze shifted around her to Reilly and Radcliffe, who were already dressed, but it looked like they were waiting for something. Her eyes searched the tent, seeing that George had left too, and their round eyes were watching her intently.

They were waiting for her.

She grinned and turned fully around to face them. "Why are you waiting for me? You'll miss breakfast!"

Radcliffe and Reilly shifted anxiously, as the latter pushed his friend towards Scarlett. "Well, sir, we're just fourteen, and Connor and the others frighten us just a bit. When he talked to us yesterday… When you did what you did… What we're trying to say is-"

"What we're trying to say is thank you!" Reilly interrupted, gratitude washing over him. "We didn't know how to respond from Connor saying those gruesome things, and you intervened and stopped him. So, we just wanted to say thank you."

Scarlett was taken aback. She really didn't expect a "thanks" from them for what she did. It was partly because she wanted to tick Connor off. Instead, she waved her hands faintly. "Please, don't mention it! He's a jerk anyway, saying all those things to young boys like you! He should be ashamed!"

At this, the boys laughed weakly. Radcliffe smiled up at his senior when she gave a confused look. "Even though you're a man, Blackburn, we were thinking about how much you remind us of our mothers back home."

All she could do was laugh nervously. It was funny, in a sense. At least they hadn't noticed the full and honest truth.

The three walked outside to greet the morning and receive their bowls of…slosh. It was brown and Scarlett made it out to be some sort of wheat porridge. She held the bowl up to her nostrils, inhaling the scent of her meal. It did not smell nor look appealing at all. Her mind began to drift off and think of the breakfast her maids would serve her every morning. The delicious scones and biscuits would be steaming into the air on her mother's favorite mahogany dining table every morning, awaiting Scarlett's arrival for the morning routine.

She quickly pushed the lavish thoughts aside. Those were things of the past, luxuries that would have to be forgotten until the war was over and Scarlett could fix the way her parents reasoned. They would see the light at the end of the tunnel, if it was the last thing she ever did.

Radcliffe looked down at his bowl and ate the food gratefully and a bit ravenously, savoring each bite. Reilly did not seem too content with his meal, and after eating his second helping, Radcliffe asked for Reilly's share.

"No way in hell!" he replied curtly, as he quickly scarfed down the remainder of his food.

The boys' friendship made Scarlett's heart quicken. It showed how innocent and young they were, not moved by the depression of the war or how they might even die. No, because their eyes showed hope. A hope that scorched through the British forces, and eventually would find freedom. It was this that made Scarlett smile once more, hoping that she could have the same thing as them. She wished she had more hope.

The boys went off after finishing their meal, racing towards the barrels of rifles and playfully fighting over which one was whose. Scarlett watched the boys' fight for a while, until she felt the weight of the bench tip as someone took a seat next to her. Knowing who it was without even looking, she quietly sipped the remains of her breakfast, ignoring his presence.

An irritated air surrounded her entire being as the man began to talk. "I apologize for rousing you last night."

Scarlett's eyebrow twitched a little. "Not a problem. Just forget about it."

For at least a second, there was a peaceful silence. But she breathed too soon, as Connor began to chatter once more. "If I may ask, it seemed rather unusual that you still had your cap on. Why is that?"

"Listen, no offense, sir, but can we please drop the subject?" she said curtly. But when she whipped her head around to glare, her breath caught and stopped her following statement. The white hood that had always concealed Connor's head was now pulled back behind his head, revealing his tanned and chiseled features. He had smooth skins with hints of faint freckles scattered over his skin. Scarlett's eyes widened in shock, because she couldn't believe she was seeing her instructor's full face for the first time.

Scarlett mentally slapped herself in the face. Why the hell did her hormonal thoughts have to kick in now, of all times, and be about him, of all men? She realized that Connor was still awaiting an answer, as his eyes seemed to burn with a curiosity unfamiliar to her. She sighed. "My hair isn't cut properly. I plan on cutting it after today's lessons."

Connor nodded in understanding. "I see."

The mentor stood up, and stared back down at Scarlett. "You know, you have much potential. It truly surprised me that you had it in you yesterday to shoot two targets right in the middle."

"Yes, well, it sure didn't seem like it when you snickered at me while doing so," Scarlett said, but she felt a smile pulling at her lips at his praise.

Connor surprisingly smiled and laughed. "Yes, well, you could say I was shocked when you seemingly rebelled against me, but it was quite amusing to see a boy as fragile as you get angry."

Connor's nice streak immediately vanished, and Scarlett could only glare. He left off in a happy mood, while she ended up finishing breakfast in a foul one, her womanly thoughts about her mentor disappearing into thin air.

* * *

"Today, I will be taking each of you out to the practice field for private individual lessons." Connor stood at the head of his students. "Each will have exactly an hour with me, practicing with firearms, weaponry, and concealment. The rest may spend their time either exploring Boston, or doing whatever else interests your time."

Every one of the men seemed to be content with his decision, except George. "If I may, Connor, why do you insist on having them waste time? You should be ordering extra training!"

Scarlett couldn't believe the veteran's sudden outburst, and judging by the reactions from the others, neither could they. Thomas was about to go into a fit of hysterics, as was Radcliffe. Reilly just seemed to look at the two older men in awe and excitement. She was glad that she was not the only one bewildered by George's proclamation.

But Connor seemed to be the most amused out of them all, as a smirk began to form on his dark lips. "I see," he said. "Well then, how about a wager?" He walked towards the weapons barrel and pulled out two French cutlasses and threw one over to George. "If you can beat me in sword combat, I will give the rest of these gentlemen some extra training techniques to work on while waiting their turn. Do we have a deal?"

George stared at the offering before grabbing the hilt of the sword and muttering curses under his breath.

Thomas came up behind Scarlett and nudged her in the elbow. "This looks like a battle I wouldn't want to be fighting. It seems like ole' George means business. Who're you putting bets on? My bet's on George."

Scarlett rolled her eyes and shook her head in disapproval. Though, it would be interesting to place a bet. She began to analyze each opponent's strengths and their obvious talents. George had experience, but lacked stamina. Connor had the strength and the agility but… What were Connor's disadvantages? She didn't have the faintest idea, which perturbed her to no end.

"I bet Connor."

Thomas's eyes widened with curiosity, but he shrugged and went back to examining the tempest brewing in front of them. "Can't say that I trust your judgment, but to each their own."

Scarlett fixed her gaze on Connor, who had positioned himself in a defensive stance, sword lined up and four inches away from his nose. His mouth moved evenly, taking inhalations slowly. The way he gripped the sword was like showing everyone around him that he was calm and collected. It was like that this brawl was a lesson in itself.

And with just a blink of her eye, the feud began. George was rushing towards Connor with all the courage of ten men and Connor stood there, still gripping the sword. Though, his stance was noticeably slacker, as he was standing taller now. George came close to his mentor and swung considerably close to his face, Connor dodging the attack just in time. George struck again, but this time Connor countered it by swinging his sword in front of him, and pushing George's sword to the side of him, causing him to stagger.

Connor took this as an opening to attack. His cutlass swiped the air in front of George as a warning strike, telling George to prepare himself. Scarlett reluctantly admitted to herself that her mentor had superior skill to the veteran, and was just playing with him the whole time. It made her even more annoyed with Connor than she'd been before.

George took a quick breath before taking his strike against Connor's sword. The two seemed to go at it forever, each taking their turns to cut, only to be countered or missing the other's opponent. But the climax began to appear when George was running out of breath, and he began to pant loudly. Sweat dripped down his forehead. Scarlett began to fear for the old man's health, and began to take a step towards their personal battlefield. A hand rested on her shoulder, preventing her from taking any more steps. She turned and saw Thomas shaking his head sternly.

"If you went out there now, it'd only cause more trouble," Thomas warned, "for both of you."

Scarlett veered her attention back towards the fight, seeing the truth in Thomas's words. If she went out and tried to intervene, Connor would only end up scolding her and seeing George as too weak to even attend training practice. She knew how much George wanted to fight; she could always see it on his face, the determination that appeared whenever he fought or shot a musket. War was the only thing he'd ever known. And Scarlett couldn't ruin it for him, not like this.

"I must admit, you're good for a young fellow," George coughed, wiping perspiration from his brow. At first, Scarlett was afraid that George was withdrawing, but she grinned broadly when she saw his fist tighten around the hilt of the sword. "But I don't give up that easily."

To her surprise, Connor smiled as well. "I didn't expect you to."

George let out a weak laugh, and gave one more determined strike at Connor. Even though he knew that it was to no avail, he still gave a winning grin. The butt of Connor's sword was knocked into the older man's diaphragm, literally taking his breath away as he fell to the ground. His coughs morphed into laughs and soon, Scarlett and the others found themselves laughing as well.

Connor only smiled and helped George from the ground. "You fight well, George. You will be a great asset to the war."

The two men shook hands, and soon, it was like their little brawl never even happened.

Thomas punched Scarlett in her arm—hard—and chuckled. "Looks like you won the bet."

"Oh, that stupid thing," she sighed. "I don't want any part of it."

Thomas feigned relief. "Good! I sure as hell didn't want to end up owing you money at all throughout this damned war."

Scarlett scoffed and rolled her eyes, but ended up laughing anyway. Reilly and Radcliffe were over by George, cheering him on and praising him for his fighting skills, which warmed her heart.

Connor took his position at the front again, clearing his throat to get the men's attention. "Now that we've settled that barter, I will be taking each of you for an individual lesson for exactly an hour. As I said before, you may do as you like, but I would suggest," he said as he glanced over at George, "to use your time wisely.

"Now, the first man I will be taking for individual practice is Blackburn."

Scarlett stopped smiling. Scarlett's brain stopped functioning. Her eyes were widening.

All she could think was, _Why does God hate me?_

"Yes, sir."

Scarlett walked behind Connor in a sulky manner. She could practically feel the scowl glued to her face as she was forced to follow him to an open field a few yards away from the camp. She remembered Connor explaining how they'd work on firing pistols and even learning how to use a sword properly. Though she never used a sword, she had wielded one before, but mostly just to get a feel of it. She had always wanted to learn how to use a sword in combat. It would have been an exciting experience, had it not been for Connor being the one to teach her.

This training was going to be a living hell.

Connor halted his steps as soon as the two arrived to vast open area. Scarlett took in the scenery, viewing the plain as a nice relaxing painting. The sky had beautiful azure accents within its light blue hues, complimented by the fluffs of white clouds floating leisurely in the sky. The day was something Scarlett would have called a perfect day long ago when everything back at the estate was still right and well. She recalled sitting by her window and watching the workers in the cotton and tobacco fields work the day away until the sun set.

The memory was so rudely interrupted by Connor, who practically shoved a pistol in her hand. She glared up at him for a split second before studying the gun in her hand. It was a Flintlock, with silver metal accents and a smooth leather exterior. She never wielded a pistol before, but she considered it not to be too hard to learn. It was more like a smaller rifle, maybe?

Connor caught her examining her weapon with deep thought. He let out an exasperated sigh. "Listen, if you have never used one of those, why don't you say it out loud?"

Scarlett looked up from her position and kept her glare. "Do you always try to make something negative out of everything?"

"What do you mean by that, pray tell?"

"Oh, nothing," she replied with sarcasm thick in her tone, "it's just it seems like you're the type of man to put every man down when something interesting or happy happens. And you question people's opinions all the time."

Connor raised a brow. "How so?"

She groaned. "Let's recall today's earlier activities. How about when George voiced his opinion, you simply had to go against it with an idiotic wager that you knew you would win."

"I never knew that I would win," he countered, raising his voice a bit. "George is a very skilled and perceptive war veteran. I knew that the fight could've have gone either way. And you have the gall to call me unfair when I overheard you and the young man, Thomas, making bets on who would win."

Scarlett cringed at the mention of the memory. How did her mentor even manage to focus on them when he was engaged in a brawl with George? Was he that perceptive? "Well, you should mind your own business, _sir._"

"And that's exactly what George should've done," Connor concluded, the pride oozing in his cocky voice.

Scarlett shook a fist at him when he turned his back, but said nothing.

After the short but meaningful argument against Connor, the training session had been quiet yet ruthless. The mentor had worked her to the bone, making her learn how to reload and shoot the pistol, over and over again. It seemed that that was all they would be doing, until a sword had soon replaced the pistol that Scarlett had been holding for what seemed like hours.

"Have you ever used a sword?" Connor asked.

"Of course I have!" she replied, a bit too quickly for her liking. But she had in fact used a sword once or twice in her lifetime. Elmer had always situated one on the mantle above the fireplace, and she would occasionally practice with it if she ever got bored with practicing marksmanship.

Connor nodded. "Good. Then, you won't have any trouble sparring with me then?"

"Of course not," she said confidently, then immediately regretted her words. Though she did swing around a sword a few times, she had never in her life fought against someone with one. The closest she had come to combat using a sharp weapon was carrying the dagger she usually kept in her skirts in case someone chose to assail her.

The annoyingly familiar smirk appeared across Connor's face, and he soon drew his own sword, a light cavalry saber. Scarlett felt her eyes widen at the sight, considering her opponent's sword to be superior to the French rapier she was handed. She gave him a quick curious glance before taking a defensive stance. As expected, her position was not as impressive as Connor's was, but she still strived to make it seem like she knew what she was doing.

Connor inhaled deeply, before taking the saber in both hands. "Are you ready, Blackburn?"

Scarlett nodded, and without a moment's hesitation, Connor lunged in for the first strike. She staggered back, trying to avoid his swing. The step backwards made her trip over her own feet and fall to the ground.

"It's disappointing to see a young soldier full of potential fail at the first try," he said blandly.

Scarlett growled a little, but again said nothing. With a helpful but rejected hand from her generous mentor, she was back on her feet. The determination showed on her face and she wished more than anything to prove herself now. Her grip on the rapier only tightened in unison with her rising confidence.

"It seems you would like to try again," Connor pointed out.

"Yes," she replied curtly.

The two took the positions again. And the spar started just as quickly, only Scarlett managed to block her mentor's attacks this time. With every swing, she found a way to block.

"You learn from mistakes," Connor commented between strikes. "That's a good attribute."

"You think?" Scarlett said sarcastically.

More parries and strikes were made, only making Connor's instructions louder. "Move swiftly!" "Do not try to falter!" "Keep your balance!" "Do not lose your grip!" "Strike with force and grace!" "Stop falling when I come to attack, Blackburn!"

After falling on the ground for the tenth time, Scarlett groaned and threw her weapon to the ground. "It's no use. This is so pointless! You shouldn't be yelling all these commands at me and expect me to focus at the same time!"

Connor sighed, and took a seat on the warm grass next to her, setting his sword to the side. "I know it is frustrating. But once you learn the basics, you will become even better. You are over thinking your attacks and performing too many blocks. You forget how to position yourself and your grip begins to loosen."

"It's not that!" Scarlett nearly yelled at Connor. "It's just that every time you attack, you instruct me, and then I don't render the information fast enough to your liking! Why can't you adjust yourself to the way I learn? Why can't you be a better teacher?"

"Mr. Blackburn, where do you reside?"

She gave him a shocked expression. Why was he trying to avoid the argument by asking such a ridiculous question? "You've never heard of the Blackburn estate?"

Connor seemed to sit up at the name. "Ah, yes. I think I recall it now. It's about a two-hour distance from Boston, am I correct?"

"Yes. My fath- my uncle and aunt live there." Scarlett had almost slipped up by saying her father.

Connor nodded, as if for her to continue her story. "I've just come here from a port in England where my family resides now. They're not ones for war, but my uncle doesn't have a son to enlist, so I volunteered." The lie had been rehearsed and rehearsed, but she had never said it to another person until now.

"What about their son?" he questioned.

The thoughts of her brother were brought back to her attention, and she didn't really feel like talking about him. He was still important to her, and her fighting this war was not only for her parents' sake and being rid of the damn affair, but also for living for her brother. But she couldn't show weakness. Being the woman and having all the weaknesses was Scarlett the girl's job. Being strong was James's.

"He died before he could enlist," she said gravely. "He just got sick one morning and ended up dying within the next few days."

Connor's face fell slightly. "I am sorry."

In spite of his apology, she laughed lightly. "It's fine. We all lose someone sometime in our lives, right? I guess I'm doing my family a favor by going into this war for my… cousin."

"I understand what it is like to lose a loved one."

Scarlett looked up at him. The truth was written in Connor's expression. It was the same face that she had always made when remembering her brother. She couldn't help but feel empathy for Connor. "I'm sorry."

"It is fine."

She shook her head. She exhaled, not believing what she was about to say towards someone she thought could not possibly become at least close to her. "No, I mean for being rude towards you since the beginning. It was completely unnecessary. No offense, but you annoy me greatly."

To this, Connor chuckled. "Well, I can't say that it wasn't obvious. But I must agree when you say that it was unnecessary. While we're being honest, I didn't take a liking to you either. But I've managed to put yesterday's actions behind me and move on. Shall we call a truce?"

When she didn't reply, he stood up, taking his sword with him. He looked towards the sky, and looked to her. "We have a few minutes left before I must take the other students for their lesson. Now that you have eased your mind and emotional state, would you like to try again, Mr. Blackburn?"

Scarlett scooped up the rapier and stood from the ground. Answering both questions at once, she said with a small grin, "Yes, Connor."

* * *

**A/N: **Reviews are highly appreciated for this chapter. I might have been rushing with the whole, "Oh, hey let's make them all friendly and such!" so if I did, warn me and I'll slow down.

Please be patient with the next upload! I just want to thank all of those again for being so patient and understanding of my busy schedule, so again I LOVE YOU!

**REVIEW, FOLLOW, FAVORITE!**


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